


Fever

by comeoutcomeout



Category: X Factor (UK) RPF, X Factor RPF
Genre: Bittersweet, M/M, PWP, Sex Addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-22
Updated: 2011-04-22
Packaged: 2017-10-18 12:16:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/188811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comeoutcomeout/pseuds/comeoutcomeout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Matt is a sex addict, and Aiden basically gets laid a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever

**Author's Note:**

> While the names and good-looks may be shared with real people, please understand that these are fictionalised characters. None of the events depicted herein have or will ever happen, The X Factor and Maiden belong to Syco and themselves, and I am not profiting from this. No harm or offence intended.

The last thing Aiden texts from his departure gate in Dublin airport is _back in an hour, b ther hot stuff xxxx_ to Matt, who receives the message in his car, already halfway to Heathrow. Pulled up at the next set of traffic lights, Matt considers texting back something dirty, but grins a little and decides the silent tease will be better.

Both of them had gone straight home from Cardiff, and it's only been seven days but it's felt longer than Matt's entire life. The fucking X Factor's put a stop to him quietly picking up one night stands when he needed to take the edge off, and maybe it's a little bit because he actually really likes Aiden, too.

Matt's never said anything about it, and Aiden's never raised it, but he's not stupid. The way Matt grabs Aiden and pulls their hips together and backs them against a wall at almost every opportunity, little care given to whether or not they're even out of sight any more. The way they come three times each on most nights, and once in the morning, and maybe once or twice after lunch if Aiden can find an excuse for them to sneak away fast enough before Matt breaks and storms off to his dressing room toilet by himself.

If he's perfectly honest, it suits Aiden just fine right now. He's a 19-year-old boy, at the end of the day, and in no place to complain about a sex addict older boyfriend that his management would never let him admit to anyway, even if it _wasn't_ Matt Cardle. In the back of his mind, he gives it at best a year before the lack of normality starts to get to him, but he figures Matt'll be long gone by then anyway. He's not ashamed to make the most of it while it lasts.

They're adventurous when the location permits, because statistically they'd get bored about ten times faster than 'normal' couples if they weren't. Aiden always knew that _he'd_ be kinky given the right opportunities, but he has to admit Matt surprised him. The belt around the neck that one time set him straight about that, though.

All the years of dealing with this had taught Matt the masterful skill of how to appear innocent (mostly), and everyone had been hoodwinked. Aiden had worked it out a couple days before they actually hooked up, when he'd been woken in the night by a suspiciously vigorous ruffling of bed linen. Jacking off in each other's presence was generally condoned - this was a busy share-house after all, and privacy could be scarce - but a modicum of quiet courtesy was supposed to be observed. Sleepy eyes had eventually focused on Matt face down in his bed, one knee pulled up and toes curling for purchase, humping a pillow with fast-snapping hips, mouth biting into one forearm, failing to muffle the needy moans.

It's difficult to say whether Matt opened his eyes and looked over because he could sense being watched, or just because he always looked at Aiden when he was getting himself off in the middle of the night. It's less difficult to say who felt more like the deer in the headlights.

Aiden froze, held his breath, but Matt barely missed a beat, too horny and hard and close to care. He slowed just for a second, and Aiden saw a haunting flash in Matt's face that he couldn't pick as ecstasy or suffering, and Matt said through a wrecked voice, "It's not the same."  
Aiden swallowed, and from somewhere on his shoulder a bastard little devil must've whispered in his ear, because he propped himself up on an elbow and mumbled, "It looks alright from here." And he didn't look away.

He watched Matt's narrow hips grind forcefully into the pillow, watched the tattoo around his waist blur. Listened to the tumble of swear words and grunts as Matt teetered on the brink. Saw him finally come with a snarl, limbs collapsing, passing out heavily.

In the morning, Aiden bit his lip as he padded across the bedroom floor, heading for the showers, and paused just long enough to tell a stirring Matt, "Wake me next time."

~~

Aiden runs the arrival hall 'Grimling' gauntlet with practised speed, towards Matt's waiting arms. He's smart enough to turn his head away as the older man reels him in, avoiding any chance of an accidental make-out session, but Matt's apparently turned his best behaviour on. He gives Aiden a matey slap on the back, poses them both for photos, and even proffers a cigarette to a cute brunette with a familiar cough before he announces perfunctorily, "I need a piss," and Aiden blushes as Matt spins them away from the crowd. Perhaps it's subconscious, or perhaps he just doesn't care, but Matt slides his hand down to grip Aiden around the wrist, and Aiden feels it like a burn.

The bathroom is empty when they enter and Aiden wonders what would've happened if it wasn't, but only for a split second before Matt's kissing him into the nearest stall, biting and pulling on the younger man's full and ready lips and Aiden's kissing back hard, not least to muffle both their moans. Matt hasn't even bothered with 'How was the flight?' yet, but he's got the top buttons of Aiden's jeans undone and is running rough fingertips up and down Aiden's soft sides under his shirt, causing both of them to shiver. It's when he registers Matt starting to move down that Aiden's common sense kicks in. He bunches a fist into the collar of Matt's shirt and tries half-heartedly to pull him up. "Matt, this is fucking Heathrow!" he whispers sharply. "This is too far."

"Tell me to stop." Matt always says that.

Aiden never says a thing.

He leans back against the cubicle door and drapes one arm above his head, gripping the coat hook. Matt sinks back down to his knees. He takes Aiden into his mouth soft but doesn't move, just lets the boy get hard on account of his imagination alone. Matt finds something impossibly delicious in thinking about angelic Aiden's wandering dirty thoughts. And it works every time.

Matt keeps in as much of Aiden as he can, and lets the motionless heat and wetness become almost unbearable - he listens out for the tell-tale keen, that comes from so deep in Aiden's throat - before he hollows his cheeks and starts to suck. There's no grace in the action today; it's fast and kind of rough and Aiden does his best not to make noise, but his breathing is heavy, loud as a jet engine anyway in their confined space. Matt's tongue massages the underside of Aiden's cock skilfully, and when Matt can taste precome he rolls his lips back and drags teeth lightly all the way along Aiden's length and back. A heady moan escapes. Aiden responds by carding his fingers into Matt's hair and he doesn't guide Matt, but he does curl his fingers up and pull hard on Matt's locks. Matt swallows reactively against the pain and the tightening pressure is enough for Aiden, who bucks involuntarily against Matt's face and comes with a cascade of tiny convulsions.

Aiden slips down the side wall of the cubicle and waits in a strange, hypercolour haze for the blood in his ears to stop thrumming. He barely clocks Matt squeezing out first. As linear thought returns, Aiden realises he's not sure whether Matt got himself off or not, but when he climbs to his feet and exits towards the sinks, Matt's there with a jacket held casually in front of him and the question goes unanswered.

"Car's outside," Matt says with a flick of his head, and they walk out together.

In the car, Matt pulls Aiden's hand across to his lap and Aiden obligingly palms the lingering semi-hardness. Aiden stares out through the windscreen, sunglasses and best poker face on, but he feels when Matt sucks his stomach in and makes just enough room for a hand to slip under the waistband of his cargos. Aiden toys with Matt languidly, just loose thumb and forefinger, until Matt runs a stop sign at 30 miles an hour and Aiden decides that perhaps a short wait won't kill them.

They don't drive far. Maybe five more minutes around the confusing access roads before Matt pulls them up at the airport Hilton. They move through the lobby calmly, heads bowed under hats just in case, but when the lift arrives, Aiden feels his head crack against the mirrored back wall as Matt shoves him in and crushes his lithe body against him.  
"Fuck," Matt growls succinctly against Aiden's mouth.  
Aiden registers the sting in his skull, but still smiles. "Missed you too, Cardle."

~~

It feels like a time-lapse - keycard in the door, across the threshold, stripped out of most of their clothes; Aiden pushes them both down onto the double bed. He drapes himself half over Matt's hip and Matt loves the just-right weight of the bigger boy. Supple fingertips stretch down and draw circles and figure-8s on Matt's perineum and eventually slip to trace the ripples of his anus. Aiden watches the way Matt's abs clench and the long fold of his scar deepens.

Aiden presses one and then two licked fingers slowly inside Matt. They fuck so often the preparatory element of this is almost secondary, but Aiden's learnt that an orgasm like this first will chill Matt out a bit, making the rest of the sex a little less violently desperate. It's how Aiden has learnt to take what _he_ needs from this relationship too, and if Matt knows what Aiden's doing, he still willingly submits anyway.

A finger curls forward and finds the rough flesh inside Matt, strokes just around the oval outline like he knows works best. He watches Matt's hard-on redden and bob as the rest of him seems to liquefy into the silvery bedspread. Feet and hands scrunch up weakly, and Aiden follows with his eyes the fuzzy sensation he can tell is moving through Matt's body. Up limbs, through a mouth that hisses "yes" and over nipples that harden, down to that firm, pale groin where he knows the familiar heaviness will be pooling. Aiden waits to hear Matt whimper, because it's the most beautiful thing in his world, and then he kisses Matt with a tongue that echoes his finger below. Matt pulls away and arches his neck back when he needs to cry out and he comes to Aiden biting his throat.

While Matt returns to time and place and his own body, Aiden shifts up to sit against the headboard. He sorts out condom and lube and then strokes Matt's shoulder invitingly. Matt flashes his sapphire blues and smiles a hungry smile as he rolls over and crawls to sit in Aiden's lap, Aiden's strong arms guiding him down onto waiting cock. They both gasp and Matt's still sensitive, but Aiden won't take much to come this time, with Matt leaning sweat-slicked and hot against his forehead.

Aiden holds Matt's sharp hipbones and Matt wraps his arms around Aiden's broad torso and wants to scream "you fucking beauty" because this boy is too perfect, and for once in his life six months hasn't been nearly long enough.

Aiden tilts his pelvis forward and so does Matt, and Aiden lets the voice out that he's been stifling 'til now. A groan that's resonant and unembarrassed because he loves what Matt does to him, not just like this but in every single moment - when he sees a memory of Matt in the shadowy front row every time he sings, or feels a phantom head on his shoulder every time he flies, or feels the tender bruises all over his body being pressed and reignited every time they fuck.

Aiden can't keep his eyes focused and he's so close to coming when...

 

...when Aiden drops from hands down to forearms and it changes the angle and he wails "Fuck, yes!" and Matt, driving into him from behind, can't quite tell whether Aiden's touching himself or whether he should reach around or whether he doesn't need to so he just digs his nails into Aiden's fleshy waist, ready to ride out his own orgasm, and...

 

...and Aiden doesn't even have the energy to shiver any more, even as Matt continues to touch his sated skin all over.  
"I can't--" Aiden starts quietly, the words cast over his shoulder to Matt spooning flush behind him. "I don't think I'll get hard again, Matt."  
"It's okay, babe."

Aiden closes his eyes and almost dozes while Matt moves around to reposition them top-to-tail on the bed, in a pleasant 69 variation where Aiden doesn't actually have to do anything at all. Matt brings Aiden to with a warm kiss to an arse cheek.

He licks a steady stripe down the crevice, and another, each stopping just short of their pink goal. Aiden mewls, the only response he can manage when all his limbs feel encased in wet cement. Matt licks around the stretched ring lightly and for a moment Aiden thinks he might be sick, before his neurons start to appreciate the new tickling sensation, better than any he's ever felt. Matt pulls one cheek aside and delves just a little deeper, a flat tongue to vary pressure, a rounded one to trace the shape, a pointed one to try to reach inside. Little sighs and moans trickle down from the head of the bed, Aiden's worn body still responsive to this most intimate of acts.

He isn't hard, won't be, but he's surprised to feel the buzz again deep inside him, buried under the pubic bone where it can't ever quite be reached, just building 'til it bursts. Matt hums and sends the gentle vibrations through into Aiden.  
"Fuck."

Matt works a little faster and Aiden's legs flinch uncontrolled, and when Matt replaces his tongue with just one finger he knows exactly where to aim. He presses firmly right to the centre of the gland inside and Aiden sees all the colours of the outside world streaming in through the hotel room walls like stars at warp speed, and all his organs are in flames before his vision sparks white and then it all fades to black.

It feels like hours before he can catch enough breath to speak. He looks at the bed; no stain. "How is that even possible?" Aiden mumbles with a heavy tongue.  
Matt just smiles, lying on his back now, stroking his dick.  
Aiden doesn't want to think about how Matt can still bear to touch himself, sure that his own skin will be smouldering for days. But he sees that look again, that haunted flash, ecstasy or suffering, and not for the first time - even after so much bliss - he actually _hates_ Matt's compulsion. Hates it on Matt's behalf most of all.

"What was it like?" Matt asks.  
Aiden figures he owes him this much thanks at least, so he turns them back face to face and tries to describe. Carried on mellifluous tones, though, the words don't really matter.  
Matt hears Aiden the same way Matt hears his favourite songs. Aiden is music to his ears; tonight he's C-sharp minor like the Moonlight Sonata. Matt wants him more than he wants his next breath.

He draws a final gasp and draws as much of Aiden with it - sight, sound, smell - and comes meekly over his own fist.

The second hand on Matt's wristwatch ticks like a bomb.

"I love you."  
Aiden shakes his head subtly. He's not sure himself whether the gesture means 'no you don't' or just 'please don't say that'.  
Matt persists. "I think I love you. I do, I think." The words slur as he fights to stave off the deep sleep that always comes after a good fix.  
Aiden rolls in, lays an arm over Matt's slight waist, watches the man's eyelids slowly lose their battle. "Get help, Matt," he says quietly.

What he really means is 'I love you too.'

**Author's Note:**

> It's nice to see the hitcount go up, but please please also consider leaving a comment or kudos...? Warm my heart :) Concrit also welcome.


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